


Crush the state

by brightfuture



Series: Shawties [5]
Category: The Centricide (Webseries)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-23 05:37:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23006581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightfuture/pseuds/brightfuture
Summary: Ancom takes charge.
Relationships: Authleft/Libleft
Series: Shawties [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1643923
Comments: 5
Kudos: 72





	Crush the state

Ancom found Commie sitting at the kitchen counter drinking Russian black tea and reading theory. Ancom walked around to the other side, rested his elbows on the counter, and leant forward towards Commie. Commie looked up neutrally.

“Yes?” He asked.

“Tankie. I’ve been… thinking. I think we should… talk.”

Commie looked back at him blankly, putting his book down.

“About?”

“Us. You know. This. Our… relationship.”

Commie raised an eyebrow.

“Leftist unity. We have socialist fraternity. Brotherhood. Friendship,” his eyes glinted as he looked off stoically.

“Tankie. You can’t deny it. The way you care for me, the way I depend on you-“

“Well, yes. I feel protective over my fellow comrade.”

“Oh, come on. It’s more than that and you know it.”

Commie shifted curiously as Ancom watched the cogs in his head turn.

“I don’t quite understand… what you’re getting at.”

Ancom rolled his eyes, moved Commie's things, and hopped up on the counter, his legs dangling wide off the other side. Commie looked away shamefully, uncomfortable with the immodest display this position allowed Ancom’s skirt to present him.

“Tankie,” Ancom sung, “don’t you feel extra excited when you see me compared to the other extremists? I know you feel jealous when I seem to have inside jokes with them, or when Ancap talks lib unity. It makes you upset because you want to keep me for yourself. You want me to be yours. You want to be mine.”

Commie’s face was as red as his blazer, eyes still firmly on the corner of the floor.

Ancom continued, “You’ve noticed that I’ve started wearing skirts and crop-tops more, haven’t you? It’s because I can tell what effect they have on you, Tankie. You’re the same shade now as you are when I bend over in short skirts or stretch in cropped hoodies”

Ancom spied Commie’s hand reaching down to his pants to adjust his stiff trousers. This sparked an inspiration in Ancom to slide off the counter and onto Tankie’s lap, wrapping his legs around the legs of the chair and his arms around Commie’s neck. This caused Commie to look back at Ancom and hesitantly put his hands on Ancom’s back to stop him falling off.

“Tell me I’m wrong, Tankie.”

After a moment of consideration Commie spoke.

“You know me better than me, Anarkiddie.”

“Exactly,” Ancom cupped Commie’s head with one hand, and boop-ed his nose with the other.

Tankie looked up at Ancom with heavy breath and lustful eyes. Ancom swooped in like a seagull nipping at abandoned fries, attacking Commie’s lips with vigorous intent. Commie leant up straight to kiss back, properly wrapping his arms around Ancom, and Ancom took this as an invitation to start moving.

He ground against Commie’s crotch and felt Commie breathe a surprised, instinctive moan into his own mouth, so he decided to keep going.

“An- anarkiddie,” Commie moaned.

“Yes, Tankie?” Ancom answered.

He felt Commie start to grow hard under him, so he started moving with more precision. It was moments like this Ancom was grateful to be afab. Easy access for direct contact. He, himself, was quite wet to accompany Commie’s own arousal. It was starting to soak through Commie’s pants. Ancom had to stop and laugh when he saw it; it looked like Commie had pissed himself.

Commie leant back and frowned.

“Sorry. Sorry,” Ancom laughed. He pointed down at their intimacy, “but it looks like you’ve wet yourself.”

Commie looked down and chuckled, “so it does.”

“I’m sorry,” Ancom giggled. Then, changing tone, he put his hand under Commie’s chin and lift his face up, “let’s take this to the bedroom and do it properly yeah?”

Commie nodded obediently, then stood up, lifting Ancom up with him. Ancom giggled into Commie’s neck, leaning over his shoulders comfortably as he was carried to a bedroom.

**Author's Note:**

> BitterCappuccino Today at 10:51 PM  
> WAIT ARE YOU  
> ARE YOU WRITING  
> AFAB ancom topping cOMMIE  
> god you fucking madwoman  
> amazing
> 
> \--
> 
> Yeah, idk, I got up to the grinding and decided, you know what, I really wanna make Ancom afab in this.


End file.
